Clemency
by 50shadesofgreyback
Summary: GG/HG, rated M for language and sex. Post-Hogwarts
1. Chapter 1

Gregory hadn't been at Hogwarts in five years, and honestly, he wouldn't mind if another five years passed before he stepped on the grounds again. The last time had been during the Battle of Hogwarts, a frantic memory of fire and racing adrenaline. He'd managed to not think too much about that last day at Hogwarts, preferring to think of happier days on the Inquisitorial Squad if he had to think of Hogwarts at all. The castle held a lot of history for him, and he was not pleased to be standing in front of its gates.

He clutched his work bag a little tighter in his hand and frowned a little deeper as he watched Filch lumber toward the gates.

"About time someone showed up! I Apparated here ten minutes ago!" Gregory scowled at Filch.

Filch didn't reply but glared at him as he opened the gate just wide enough for the taller man to squeeze through.

"Headmistress says you're to go to her office before you go in the lake." Filch said as he locked the gate. "Says the beast might be more than you can handle."

Not even remotely reassured by this charming parting remark, Gregory didn't respond, but instead turned and began the long walk up to the castle. Although the Dark Lord had been defeated for five years now, security at Hogwarts was still as tight as its pre-battle days, and Apparition still impossible on school grounds. That was fine with Gregory; Apparating gave a sick feeling in his stomach.

The Headmistress had contacted his boss a week ago to discuss the squid problem. It seemed the giant squid was making trouble, more than usual, even going so far as to drag a first year out of the boat on the way to Sorting. Magical creature control usually fell under the jurisdiction of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but the bureaucrats had contracted Owen's Beast Solutions for this case, most likely to shift blame in case the squid had to be terminated. Giant squid were protected under law but certain circumstantial exclusions existed. That Granger had started a grassroots magical creature welfare revolution with her S.P.U.N.K. or S.P.A.W.N. or whatever. Gregory was well aware that they'd be extremely unhappy if something happened to the squid, no matter how homicidal it was.

And so here he was, only a month on the job and already expected to know how to do something about a rogue squid without maiming or killing it. Not two hours ago, Mr. Owens had dropped a thin dirty file folder on his desk and barked, "Take care of it!" Inside the folder were a few water stained and yellowed pages that looked be about seventy years old. They mostly seemed to be reports of known territories of giant squid in the Northern Hemisphere and with a note scribbled at the bottom: "Long lived. Irritable." Other than this, there were newer pages detailing the giant squid's legal protected status and copies of relevant legislation. All in all, not much that would be helpful to him. He figured the best knowledge he had came from his own school days: Don't go in the water and stay away from the squid.

Unfortunately, Gregory couldn't think of any way to handle this without on dry land and at a safe distance. He hoped that it was just injured and that he would be able to immobilize it and turn it over to someone else.

A short time later, he was standing in the front courtyard of Hogwarts, slightly winded and more than slightly ill-tempered. The walk from the gates to the castle proper was longer than he remembered, and his bag felt like it was pulling his shoulder off. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he looked around him. Hogwarts didn't seem much different than it had been in his days, despite having almost been destroyed not too long ago. A couple of the statues were gone, but the grass had grown back, or as much it could grow back, considering how much the students trampled it. Judging by the number of students in the courtyard, he must have arrived as classes were changing. He scowled at a few tiny first years who bumped into him, more interested in looking at what appeared to be a dragon figurine than watching where they were going, but they didn't even look up at him. Had he ever been as small as them? Gregory doubted it.

Shifting his pack a little higher on his shoulder, he walked across the courtyard and up the stairs in the Front Hall. Not much looked different here either, but it felt different somehow. Smaller.

Maybe I got bigger, Gregory thought. Or maybe I'm just older.

Gregory stopped on the stairs to watch the staircases move above him. Being back here wasn't as bad as he'd imagined it would be. For one thing, he wasn't a student anymore, and for another, he hadn't seen any familiar faces. Gregory didn't think about his old classmates much. Too many of them were dead, missing, or imprisoned, or at least too many of the ones he'd actually kind of liked.

Come to think of it, his days at Hogwarts, especially the earlier ones, hadn't been so bad. Sneaking out of the dormitory at night with Malfoy and Crabbe, spying on the female prefects in their bathroom, playing Quidditch in the late afternoons. Some of the best times of his life.

His wistful reminiscence was broken as he heard a polite cough from behind him. When he turned, he saw a young man in teacher robes standing on the step below him. He looked familiar, but Gregory couldn't place his face. He was too young to have been a professor five years ago, but possibly they had attended Hogwarts around the same time.

"Are you lost?"

"No, I'm on my way to the Headmistress's office."

"Oh, well it's the other way. I was headed there myself when I saw you up here. Mind if I walk with you?"

"No, that's fine."

Gregory and the young teacher walked down the stairs together. Gregory still couldn't shake the feeling he knew the man somehow. He was tall with a long face but wore an easy grin. Maybe he had been a year ahead of him?

"So what brings you to Hogwarts?"

"The squid. I'm with magical creature management. We heard it's been making trouble here recently."

"Oh yes, the squid. I can't remember that it's ever been this moody. I had a lesson planned on aquatic plants, but I had to reschedule it because I was afraid the squid might try to grab another student. Any ideas as to what's wrong with it?"

Gregory shrugged as they started up the spiral staircase.

"No, but I'll get it sorted."

"Well, good luck to you. That thing is smarter than it looks."

They stopped outside the door, and the young professor rapped on the door.

"Minerva?"

"Yes, come in please."

Gregory followed the professor into the Headmistress's office. He'd been in here quite a few times before, during Umbridge's stint as head of the school, and while it looked much the same, excepting the absence of cat plates, it seemed brighter.

"Ah, Professor Longbottom, how is the construction of the new greenhouse coming?"

"Slowly, I'm afraid. I met our solution to the giant squid problem on the way up. I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Neville Longbottom, Professor of Herbology."

Neville extended his hand to Gregory who clasped it after a second, with a feeling like his stomach had shriveled up and dropped like a stone. This was Longbottom? He hadn't recognized him, and since Longbottom had held out his hand like a friend instead of hexing him into a pile of dust, he obviously hadn't recognized Gregory either.

"Oh, I think you two have met before, Neville. Mr. Goyle here was in your class at Hogwarts."

Neville dropped his hand like he'd been burnt and his grin, which had so easy before, disappeared.

"It's Clemente now, Headmistress. Gregory Clemente."

"I see. Mr. Owens mentioned he would be sending an alumnus, but I didn't recognize the name. I just have a few things to go over before you start. Neville, I'm sorry, but could we talk about the new greenhouse during lunch?"

Neville had been staring at Gregory, but at the Headmistress's question, he turned and gave her a tightlipped smile.

"Of course, Minerva. I'll bring some of the sketches."

Neville turned on his heel and walked out the door, shutting it a little too loudly behind him.

"Please have a seat, Mr. Clemente. I don't know what you've been told of our current condition, but in brief, the giant squid has been for the last three weeks unusually agitated and aggressive, and I would like this taken care of before it drags another student off. I'm sure you're aware of the delicacy necessary in this situation."

Gregory, feeling large and awkward in the spindly chair in front of McGonagall's desk, nodded and cleared his throat.  
"I was briefed" emphasis on the 'brief,' he thought, "on the squid's protected status, but I wasn't given much more than that. Is there any idea as to what started it off?"

"Unfortunately, no. Professor Longbottom speculates the unusually warm weather might have upset the squid's ecosystem and cause it to become irritable, but past warm autumns didn't seem to trigger any aggression."

"Well, maybe it's just getting older. Any idea of how old it actually is?"

"There have been mentions of it as far back as 80 years, but the records are all of an adult squid. I have no idea how long it takes for a squid to reach maturity, but I feel it's safe to say it is at least 90 years old."

That old? Maybe it will just drop dead in the next few minutes, and I can get a pint in Hogsmeade, he thought.

"Well, I'd best get started now and not waste anymore daylight. I'll do the best I can."

Gregory stood up and gave a little nod to the Headmistress. She had been civil to him, considering past events, and he felt he at least owed her the same civility.

"Oh, one last thing. S.P.E.W. is sending a representative just to be sure all compliances are met. Will that be a problem for you?" McGonagall tapped her parchment with a long quill as she raised her eyebrows at him.

"No, I guess not. So long as he doesn't get in my way."

"She, actually. Another old classmate. Miss Granger will meet you beside the lake."

McGonagall went back to her paperwork but set down her quill when she heard the door close. Gregory Clemente, né Goyle, was not what she had expected to walk through her door. He looked much older than his 22 years, still tall and imposing in stature, but his posture was dismal, as if he was trying to make himself smaller. She would have expected the arrogant and stupid boy of half a decade ago, not a broken-looking man.

* * *

Hermione leaned back against the low stone wall that meandered down the slope of the lawn in front of the lake shore. The day was warming up, but it was still autumn in the Highlands, and it felt nice to sit sheltered from the wind. The man from Owen's wasn't on time, but she found she didn't really mind too much. Normally, she'd be either at work or making wedding plans, and she idly wondered which she'd rather not do the most. Coming to Hogwarts for a day, even for work, felt like a holiday and one she sorely needed. Later, if she had time, maybe she could have tea with Neville and visit some of her old haunts. With her head back and eyes closed, she smiled a little.

Be nice to pretend I was eleven years old again, Hermione mused.

She must have dozed off a little because when she opened her eyes, her timepiece read 10 in the morning. Sitting up, Hermione patted her hair into place and looked about for the man from Owen's. Mr. Clemente, maybe?  
Her timing was fortunate because as she looked over the wall up at the castle, she saw a tall man picking his way carefully down the slope. She raised her hand to him and called out.

He kept his head down, watching his feet, and it wasn't until he reached the wall that he looked up. He was young, maybe a little older than her, with loose black hair and large pack slung over one shoulder. Hermione stuck out her hand.

"Granger. Hermione Granger. I'm here on behalf of S.P.E.W."

Mr. Clemente took her hand and nodded.

"Gregory Clemente."

"I hope you didn't have too much trouble coming all the way up here to Hogwarts. It's bit out of the way of ...well, it's a bit out of the way of everything."

Hermione reached out to take his pack as he crossed the small wall, but he didn't hand it over to her. She let her hand hang in the air a moment before dropping it.

"Nice weather we're having for this time of year. Have you ever been to Hogwarts before?"

Mr. Clemente was over the wall and making his way down to the shore. Hermione tried to keep up with him without trotting after him like a dog. He didn't seem to be a very friendly man.

"Yes, I went to school here."

"Really? I thought you looked familiar, but I couldn't place the name. When did you graduate? It must have been before the Final Battle."

He stopped abruptly and set his pack down, and Hermione narrowly avoided bumping into him.

"I didn't graduate. We were in the same year, but you obviously don't recognize me. Had a different name and a different life then. You knew me as Gregory Goyle."

Hermione's chest felt tight and she felt the presence of her wand against her side.

"We weren't school chums or anything like that. So do you mind if I just get to work and you stay out of my way?"

He picked his pack back up and continued marching to the shore.

Hermione just stood above him and stared.


	2. Chapter 2

When Hermione caught up to Gregory, he was pulling back one of the large doors of the boathouse. Once it was open, he stepped inside and after a moment, Hermione followed. He was tossing his pack into one of the rowboats at the far end of the dock and looked back at her as he crouched to pull the knot free.

"Are you coming or not? Doesn't make any difference to me."

Hermione pulled her shoulders back and walked briskly towards him.

"Yes, but we need to go over a few things."

Gregory stood back up, pulling the boat closer to the dock.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I'm here in a purely observational role, and I cannot offer you help in any way, but rather ensure you follow all the proper protocol. The giant squid is protected under Provision 402 of the - "

"1962 Amendment to the Northern Atlantic Aquatic Pact. I know. Are you getting in or not?"

He had stepped in the boat and was holding onto the dock with one large hand.

Hermione licked her lips and began again.

"Well, then I shouldn't need to remind you that this protection includes, but is not limited to, the hunting, trapping, consumption, sa-"

"Sale, killing, Charming, Transfiguring, or otherwise harmful or willful endangerment of the species. If you're not getting in, you can watch from the shore."

Hermione glared at him and stepped into the boat, sitting down heavily. Gregory grabbed the dock with his other hand to correct the sudden rocking.

"Christ, Granger. Be a little more careful."

She crossed her arms, and only through a Herculean effort was she able to hold her tongue.

* * *

Once out on the water, she was saved from having to make small talk with her hulking companion by a brisk wind across the water that made any conversation below a shout impossible. Not that she'd wanted to talk to him very much. Once firmly settled in the boat, she'd asked him if he knew how to pilot the magical craft or if he would like her to manage it. By way of reply, he'd given her a look which clearly asked if she thought him a simpering moron, pointed his wand to the back of the boat (_Was it called the aft on a rowboat? Surely there must be some size qualification before one could apply the proper nautical terms_), and said _Prupolso_.

And that had been the extent of their interaction for the past thirty minutes. The little rowboat had been specifically made for the leisurely trip once a year to the train station to the castle, but it gamely bobbed across the blinding surface of the lake under the direction of a wand.

Hermione had one hand clutching the side of the boat, the other holding her cropped jacket closed, and her mind firmly on the subject of Gregory Goyle, now Clemente. Once her initial shock at his identity had died down, it had been replaced by a sense of curiosity. She hadn't thought she ever see him again, or if she did, it would have been on the front page of the Daily Prophet as the prime suspect in some horrid crime. Definitely it would not have been three feet away from her in a rickety boat in the middle of a lake while on the way to take in hand an aggressive mollusk.

_I really should hate him. He was unpardonably cruel to me and many others for almost seven years, he fought alongside the Dark Lord, and he committed numerous crimes yet served only a mere 18 months in Azkaban where others were sentenced to life._

Suddenly, Hermione felt very vulnerable and exposed out there on the lake with Goyle. But that was nonsense. If he wanted to kill her, there was no way that even he would be stupid enough to try it here, of all places. Besides, she had no doubt that she was more magically talented than him in every way, unless her memories of his gross ineptness were completely misleading or he had concealed some vast store of talent throughout both his schooling and a war. _No_, she thought as she looked him over, _I am quite safe out here_.

* * *

From the corner of his eye, Gregory became aware that Hermione Granger was giving him a smug little grin. No doubt giving herself a little pat on the back for how everything had turned out. Here she was, influential activist, member of the Ministry, and Muggleborn ordering about her old enemy, now the wizarding world's version of a dog catcher.

And the more he thought about it, the more he became convinced that she must be enjoying herself immensely. She'd been very polite up until he'd introduced himself, and from there, it had only been patronizing questions about his ability to guide a boat with a wand, something any self respecting wizard who had grown up with a lake on the family estate would know how to do, and a frigid silence that practically stank of haughtiness. Just now, she sat primly with her left hand holding her tailored jacket, prominently displaying a winking diamond ring on her fourth finger. It looked like Hermione Granger had gotten everything she'd wanted out of life. He shifted his weight on his seat, making the boat rock, and was rewarded by the sight of Granger's knuckles turning white.

He hadn't felt so uncomfortably large and oafish since he'd been a teenager, and he was painfully aware of everything about his appearance: plain black robes, wrinkled and still dirty from the boggart job last Monday, dark hair, worn much longer nowadays, and three days' worth of stubble. He was positive he looked about as defeated as she could have hoped for.

Once the boat was a sufficient distance from the shore, Gregory lowered his wand and they glided a few more feet before stopping. He placed his wand inside his shirt and tossed an anchor over the side. Hermione watched the rope play out for a few moments before speaking.

"So what's your plan?"

"What?"

"Your _plan. _How do you intend to diagnose and treat the squid?"

"What?"

"The squid!"

"I didn't hear anything about a squib being involved."

_What in Merlin's name is he talking about?_

"The SQUID!" Hermione nearly shouted at him.

"Oh, the _squid_? Speak up, Granger. I can barely hear myself out here."

Hermione took a death breath and exhaled slowly through her nose. Gregory had unfastened his robe and was in the process of pulling off his shoes when Hermione spoke again, much louder this time.

"Are you going into the water?"

Gregory dropped his shoes in front of her and slowly said "Yes, Granger."

Hermione resolved to just stop asking questions altogether.

Her resolution lasted all of a minute, at which time Goyle, already divested of robe, socks, and shoes, had moved to undo his belt.

"Is this completely necessary? I can do a simple drying spell if you don't want to stay in wet clothes?"

"It's hard to swim in clothes."

Hermione reluctantly conceded the truth of that. Still, it didn't make her feel any less uncomfortable as he removed his trousers, awkwardly folding his body as to not capsize the boat. Thankfully, he was wearing what appeared to be Muggle swim trunks underneath his trousers, which made her realize that he was also wearing a Muggle tee-shirt and a wristwatch. The shirt was a black crewneck and very unremarkable, which is probably why she hadn't noticed it to begin with, but now that she had noticed, it and the watch looked as incongruous as a snake wearing gloves. Just what had Goyle been up to for the past three and a half years?

* * *

Gregory was looking forward to getting into the water. He no longer felt any nerves about coming face to face with whatever was down there. He hoped the squid would attack. He wanted a chance to get a good hit at something, and right now, a sea monster fit the bill perfectly. Granger was a thorn in his side, and he resented her for every unpleasant moment of a thoroughly unpleasant day. Even the sun was too bright. That wasn't her fault, but he still scowled and squinted as each happy sunbeam sent a "fuck you" to his eyeballs.

She'd turned prudish when he'd removed his trousers. Although he still felt fumbling and awkward, he'd also felt a perverse pleasure in his body making her feel uncomfortable.

Once undressed, he reached into his bag and fumbled about for the gillyweed that he'd tossed in earlier. This wouldn't the first time using it, but it was not an experience that improved with repetition. Finally grasping it, he slowly stood up onto his bench seat and stuffed the gillyweed into his mouth and quickly swallowed. With wand in hand, he dove into the black waters.

The water was freezing. Between the shock of the cold and the burning in his throat, Gregory felt disoriented for a few moments before the transformation completed and he could breathe easily. Readjusting his grip on his wand, he swam deeper, practiced kicks taking him along without much effort.

_Now I just have to find the damned thing. Or hope that it finds me._

He had a window of several hours until the gillyweed wore off, and he hoped it would take every minute.

* * *

Author's note: This chapter is a little shorter than the first, but I'm going to try to keep them all around 1500 to 2000 words and try to add a new chapter about every seven to ten days. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

When it became apparent that Clemente was not going to resurface anytime soon, Hermione made herself a little more comfortable by Transfiguring her left shoe into a pillow and her right shoe into a wide brimmed hat. She settled down into the bottom of the boat, feet propped on the opposite bench seat, and opened her wedding planning notebook which never really seemed to leave her side recently. She supposed she ought to have been watching Clemente's every move because she wasn't quite sure she trusted him to not anatomically rearrange the squid, but for once, she decided to take a hands-off approach and not intercede unless she noticed a large amount of blood in the water.

Flipping to an empty page, Hermione began making a list of out of town guests, grouping them by family. Despite the saccharine wedding organizers on display at Flourish and Botts, writing longhand in a Muggle notebook seemed more organized. Though she had lived with magic for almost a decade, Hermione believed some things just needed to be done the hard way, and hence, the notebook. It was an attitude her future mother-in-law couldn't understand and wouldn't support, and so a few uninterrupted moments of doing things _her_ way was a blessing.

Her official joining of the Weasley family wasn't for another four months, which felt like both tomorrow and sometime next millennium. Hermione doodled a little box around Neville and Luna whom had said they would provide their own tent to stay in, but added a tiny question mark next to the box when she remembered that Neville had quietly pulled her aside and told her he would confirm their arrangements only after he'd had a look at the tent Luna had promised would be suitable. It was an undoubtedly wise move on Neville's part; any interior of a tent belonging to Luna Lovegood was likely to resemble a treehouse or ice palace or some other fantastic accommodation.

Hermione had tallied up the number of tents she and Ron would need to rent for their guests and had moved on to planning a luncheon for the wedding party when her thoughts turned to Gregory Clemente once more.

_I wonder if he ever married? Doubtful. What girl would have him? It would not only be social suicide (who would want to marry a former Death Eater?) but probably lead to a real suicide as well. Merlin only knows what type of husband he would be. _

Stretching both arms overhead and arching her back, Hermione decided to take a little break from wedding planning. A lot of her decisions couldn't be made entirely on her own, which made Hermione feel uncomfortably out of control. All she could do was come up with ideas and send owls.

Putting the notebook aside, she was faced with a pleasant problem. Right now, there was absolutely nothing she could get done. She was in a rowboat in the middle of a lake, she had no paperwork with her, no one could contact her, and she would be alone for probably another hour. Excepting her companion, this was pure serendipity. Placing her notebook back in her bag, Hermione exchanged it for a dog eared Muggle paperback, and after one quick check across the placid surface of the lake, settled back to enjoy her unexpected miniature holiday.

Gregory had the uncomfortably distinct feeling of being watched. He had been swimming far below the surface, only about 10 meters or so from the lake bed, so that he could easily scan the spread of empty water above him, faintly illuminated by the sun. So far, he hadn't seen much of anything else swimming along, not squid, not merpeople, and strangely enough, not even very many fish. Gregory paused, treading water, as he considered this last observation. Something was very wrong down here, and he was unsure if the squid's behavior was causing it or if the squid's behavior was being caused _by _it.

A gentle brush against the back of his calf caused him to whip around and raise his wand, but nothing was there. His back felt prickly, almost as if the gaze of whatever was stalking him, and he was sure now that something was, was physically touching him. Then like the stroke of a whip, something struck him between the shoulder blades and propelled him forward. He whipped around again, but there was nothing.

Gregory illuminated his wand and held it out in front of him. His range of vision narrowed and he could no longer see clearly past the edge of his wandlight, but in the murky waters, he was sure he saw a tentacle flicker out of sight. Gregory swam hard after it, but another blow across his back stunned him. He spun again, and the squid was no more than two meters away from him. A tentacle ventured towards him, and he shot a Stinging Hex at it, protocol be damned. The squid recoiled and shot off.

Something glided past the corner of his eye. Gregory, wand clutched in a death grip in his hand, turned and saw the squid. Or was it the same squid? The one he had just seen had shot off the other direction, but now it was directly behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, and it felt as if his heart had jumped into his throat. There were two more squids behind him.

_More than one? There's never been any word that the giant squid was really a damned family of the things!_

Gregory decided now was a good time to get out of the lake.

Hermione was bored. She'd given up on her book after she'd realized she'd been reading the same paragraph over and over without really reading it. Now she sat with her head propped on her hand and sighed.

"Will you please hurry up, Gregory Goyle?" She rolled her eyes, "Clemente."

At that moment, she saw something break the surface of the lake. It was Clemente, and he looked wildly about him until he spotted the rowboat then submerged again. Hermione shaded her eyes with her hand and frowned a little. He broke the surface again, closer this time, and yelled out to her.

"Granger! The boat! Come to me!"

Without hesitation, she pointed her wand at the boat and the anchor came zipping up through the water to coil neatly on the boards at her feet as the boat shot forward toward him, waves slapping at it with bone jarring force as it bluntly cut through the swell. He had gone under the surface again, presumably swimming faster under the water. What was going on? What had happened?

When he surfaced again, he was only a few feet from the boat. Hermione let the boat stop, and he swam towards her, awkwardly holding his wand in his fist. Clemente struggled to climb over the high sides, then abruptly went under water again. He reappeared after a second with great vertical leap out of the water and flopped his upper body into the boat and managed to bring his legs in after him. Hermione saw his feet and hands were still webbed, and he was struggling to breathe air through his gills.

"Are you alright? I think you should get back in the water until the gillyweed wears off."

Clemente ignored her and pawed through his bag. The horrible gasping noises were getting worse, and he frantically dumped the bag's contents onto the bottom of the boat and seized a small vial of purple liquid. He fumbled to open it, but his webbed hands were too awkward, and Hermione grabbed the vial from him and popped the cork out. After quickly swallowing it, the effects on him were immediate. His gills closed and his fins rapidly shrank back into normal human appendages.

Clemente was taking huge gulps of air, leaning forward with his arms resting on his kness. There was a red line down his back, slightly swollen.

"Granger, we need to get out of here. Get us back to the shore as fast as you can."

Bouncing over the lake on the way back to the boathouse, neither of them spoke. Once he had regained his breath, Clemente had concentrated intensely on the water around them, wand clutched tightly. A few times, he had leaned forward into a half-crouch and raised his wand, but no lake monsters bothered them. Hermione coaxed as much speed out of the boat as she could. The way Clemente was acting, something had really spooked him down there.

He stayed on high alert, not even putting his clothes back on, despite the fact she could tell he was cold, until they were back in the boathouse. Hermione bent to repack the gear he'd dumped out of his bag.

"What happened out there?"

Clemente had gotten out of the boat to redress, and he shook his head as he pulled his pants on.

"I'm not sure. I didn't see anything, not the squid, nor merpeople, nor even any damn fish for probably an hour. I was just thinking how odd that was, when something slapped me across the back. Turns out there's not a squid problem. There's a _squids _problem."

"Squids? As in more than one?"

"At least four more. Didn't seem as big as I expected."

"Well, maybe they weren't full grown?" Hermione handed him his pack.

"Huh. Maybe not."

"Well, what are you thinking you're going to do?"

"I'm not sure. I'm going to have to talk to my boss and the Headmistress about this. Now we know it's more than one squid causing the problems, but we still don't know why. They'll just have to keep the everyone away from the lake for a little longer."

Clemente buckled his watch around his wrist and raked his hair back from his forehead as he looked back at Hermione.

"Is there anything you need to know?"

"Well, I just need to confirm that the squids weren't harmed."

"They weren't."

"Then that's all I need to know."

They walked back up to the castle in silence. Once inside the doors, Hermione stopped.

"Are you going back up the Headmistress's office now?"

"Yeah."

"I actually have plans to meet someone else, but since you'll have to come out here again, I'm sure I'll see you then."

"Yeah, probably be next week some time."

"Well, good to see you! Take care!"

Hermione hurried off, glad he couldn't see her reddening face. _Good to see you? Take care? Merlin, Hermione. Might as well have given him a kiss on the cheek and said "Give my love to the family!"_


End file.
